Riley (The Kendall Family #3)

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Riley (The Kendall Family #3) Page 2

by Randi Everheart


  She hadn’t brought much with her, including the rifle, so he’d need to go find that and whatever else she’d left. She’d presumably come in a car; that probably held everything else of interest, including an ID, even if fake. Only the phone offered info now, so he picked it up and clicked the “home” button. He didn’t have the code to get in but the fingerprint scanner might work. With a smirk, he went over to her and placed her left thumb on it. No luck. He tried twice more before switching to her right thumb, which worked on the first pass.

  “Tactical mistake, sweetheart,” he said, pausing to stare at her in admiration. With an effort, he turned his attention to the phone.

  He pulled up the contacts and saw none, which didn’t surprise him. Operatives were trained to memorize info. The call log showed two numbers she’d dialed. He could call them to see who answered, but that might give him away, so he copied one and pasted it into the internet browser, hoping Google would return intel. The first search result was for Enterprise Car Rental in Dulles, Virginia. He clicked on the map, not surprised to see it was at the airport; she’d flown in. The question was from where? If he could find the car here, he might find a key for a locker and her belongings at the airport. Stashing them there was what he would’ve done, had he been her.

  Before he had a chance to search on the other number, a text message from it appeared, so he clicked the messenger app. Only the letter “T” indicated the sender, who’d typed “Hold off.” Curious, Riley typed a response, pretending to be her. He might learn all sorts of things this way and felt certain the texter was somehow involved.

  Riley: Why?

  T: Just do it

  R: Negative. Target in sight

  T: More intel coming

  R: Such as?

  T: Later

  R: Taking shot

  T: No!

  R: Best chance

  T: Wait! Damn it Jordan. Do as told for once!

  He smiled. So he had her name. It suited her. He wondered if that was her real one or a code name, but he’d find out soon enough.

  And he also knew she didn’t follow orders. That didn’t surprise him. Nothing about her suggested military. Defiance seemed to exude from her even while unconscious. Curious and a little turned on, he turned back to the phone. He wanted to know why the change order had come.

  Riley: Target change?

  T: N

  R: Mission off?

  T: N. Just wait

  R: How long?

  T: Unclear. Day?

  Riley wondered if his family was in danger, too, not because they had a violent history like him, but just because they existed. A hit on him might include someone close to him. It depended on who’d ordered the hit. In his military service, he’d never gone after a target’s family because the Marines didn’t operate that way, but anyone trying to assassinate him in private life was likely dishonorable and wouldn’t stop at just him, necessarily.

  And what was so special about tomorrow? Or the next day? He had nothing planned except the usual—visiting his family’s businesses as the security officer. In two days, he was supposed to lead a riding tour from Kendall Motorsports, but there was nothing unique about it. Or the attendees, as far as he knew. But maybe that was it.

  Riley: More targets?

  T: Sort of.

  R: WTF?

  T: Intel coming

  Riley: How many more?

  T: Just one

  That suggested the additional target wasn’t his family. With three brothers, two sisters, and some in-laws, there was no sense in taking out just one of them. None had a background anything like his military service. As a sniper, Riley had killed many men and probably earned his enemies, assuming anyone ever learned his identity, but that was unlikely. Still, stranger things had happened.

  None of the guys he’d served with in the Marines lived anywhere near him, and they were the only people he knew who could possibly have a sniper sent to execute them, but even that was hard to believe. Still, there lay Jordan right in front of him. He couldn’t think how another target would be connected to him. Still, it couldn’t hurt to ask.

  Riley: Where? Near?

  T: Y

  R: Who?

  T: No intel

  R: Relative?

  T: N

  Riley let out a breath. While that was good, it didn’t mean his family couldn’t be used as leverage against him if he was discovered to still be alive. He might have to take an extended vacation from here and let that be known so that no one came here looking for him, but he needed to learn T’s identity and more about this other target. Was someone else pulling strings, or would finding and killing T to protect his family, if not himself, be enough? Taking a cue from Jordan’s tattoos and free spirit, he typed a challenging response.

  Riley: Just tell me. Stop jerking me around

  T: Relax

  R: Source?

  T: You know I never say

  R: Make exception

  T: Stop it

  R: Payment?

  T: Double

  Riley frowned. That didn’t tell him anything and showing too much ignorance by asking to confirm a number might tip off whoever this was that Jordan wasn’t doing the texting. It didn’t matter anyway but he wanted to know the bounty on his head. The higher the amount, the more people might try to collect. Someone might have contracted his killing, or they might have just put him on a hit list. He asked for more info in case this guy revealed something while his guard was down.

  Riley: Upfront?

  T: Half

  R: Do it now. Or I call off both

  T: Hold on.

  R: Standing down

  Riley realized Jordan might have a way to confirm such a payment via this phone. He clicked the “home” button and saw just a handful of apps. One was for banking. He clicked it, not surprised to find it locked, but it wanted a fingerprint. Rolling his eyes, he again used her right thumb to get into the app. Two accounts were listed. He clicked on each, noting the large balances, deposits into and payments from them.

  One was a U.S. bank and showed debits from Air France, which he knew flew into Dulles. That answered that question. Another debit was from Enterprise Car Rental there, and a Hilton in Gaithersburg to the south told him where she was staying. She’d apparently eaten at Rainbow Sushi nearby, too.

  “Well, aren’t you full of information,” he said, a little surprised Jordan had screwed up this way. Maybe she wasn’t that professional after all. He was looking forward to learning more about her.

  He checked the other account, for Credit Suisse, a Swiss bank, and saw a deposit for five hundred thousand dollars dated a week ago. The number startled him. He’d never killed for money, only duty, and in that sense hadn’t earned much as compared to Jordan. He suspected this deposit was for his assassination because similar deposits, albeit in the fifty to hundred thousand range, went back months, as did withdrawals of nearly the same amounts, likely to another account not listed on her phone.

  A new text message interrupted his thoughts.

  T: Done

  Riley: Good

  T: Wait for intel

  R: Money bought my patience

  Deciding to quit while he was ahead, Riley flipped back to the Credit Suisse account and kept checking until a new deposit of a half million appeared. So the other target was equally valuable dead. Now he wanted to meet the guy. Together, they could track down those who wanted them killed. He cast a glance at Jordan, not expecting to see her hazel eyes calmly observing him.

  Chapter 3 – The Interrogation

  The pain in her head and neck had roused Jordan out of an unconscious state. Oxygen deprivation from Riley strangling her had caused a headache that was slowly fading. She hadn’t been sure she’d ever wake up again but wasn’t too surprised. Riley only killed for the Marines. He probably wasn’t the type to kill even someone whom he knew had tried to take him out. Still, as the blackness had closed in on her, she’d known there was some risk that this was
going to be it, even if he didn’t intend her death. There was an art to making someone pass out without killing them.

  It hadn’t taken long for the burst of relief and thankfulness to subside when she first roused. A fan-light combination on a white ceiling greeted her clearing vision. Riley stood nearby, his chiseled profile reminding her of his masculinity and her likely helplessness, which she immediately tested and discovered. A glance down her body made her stifle a gasp—she was buck naked. With her legs spread. But the shirtless Marine at least still had his jeans on. For now. Hopefully he didn’t have creepy intentions, but she felt in no way reassured of that. Her dirty thoughts from earlier seemed a lifetime ago.

  Jordan exhaled a breath to calm herself, determined not to reveal to him any more than he’d already revealed to himself. The bastard. She’d make him pay for splaying her out like this.

  Riley looked over and seemed surprised to meet her gaze. He smiled but didn’t look at her body. She stifled a frown.

  “Enjoy your nap?” he asked.

  “What are you going to do with me?”

  “What? No foreplay?”

  “I’m not in the mood.” Contrary to her words, she felt her body react to him a little despite the situation. Even because of it. Such vulnerability mostly caused fear and worry, but some part of her was excited even if she didn’t want to admit it. Wondering at herself, she searched his face with her eyes, trying to read him. What was it about Riley Kendall that caused an unthinkable reaction? Surely she didn’t trust him.

  “That’s what foreplay’s for,” Riley said.

  “Is that what you call this?”

  “No. I call this a good time.”

  “For who? It’s supposed to be a good time for both.”

  “Oh, you’ll have a good time. Just not as much as me.”

  “Is that what you think?”

  “Are we still talking about your interrogation? Because it doesn’t sound like it.”

  Riley’s amused eyes finally swept over her, lingering on her tits, pussy, and then eyes, a spark of excitement appearing within his own. So he was interested after all. She felt relieved and annoyed. Without meaning to, she tensed but saw his appreciation deepen at the way her muscles made her flesh ripple. Relaxing took an effort, especially when she felt her nipples begin to harden involuntarily. The resistance apparently made her more attractive, but relaxing as if submitting aroused her. She felt conflicted.

  Seeing him ogling her, she replied, “Is this how you treat all your conquests? Tie them up and rape them?”

  “Honey, if I was that kind of man, I would’ve had you already.”

  Eyeing his hard-on, she said, “Looks like you were just getting ready.”

  “I was ready the moment I laid eyes on you.”

  She blushed and cursed herself for it. She was no stranger to men finding her attractive, but they seldom looked as good as him, and certainly no such man had put her in this position. Getting a quick read on people was part of her livelihood. It had kept her alive more than once, but it surprised her to sense he wasn’t the raping type. If anything, he seemed somehow honorable.

  And that intrigued her. Could he really keep his hands—and anything else—to himself with her so helpless and him clearly turned on? Her eyes dipped to his muscled chest and powerful arms, wondering what they’d feel like crushing her to him. Fresh arousal surged from her loins up her belly and she let out a breath to calm herself.

  “So tell me,” he began, leaning against a dresser, muscles flexing as he folded his arms, “why did you try to kill me?”

  “I’m sure you’ve got it coming for something.”

  “Like what?”

  “Maybe crimes against women.”

  “The only crime I’ll commit against you will be not fucking your brains out.”

  She snorted but sensed he was kidding. “As if. Does that cockiness ever work?”

  “Always. So you’re saying you don’t care what I’ve supposedly done?”

  “Not in the least.”

  “Then you have no honor.”

  She frowned. “You’re judging me? You’re a sniper, like me.”

  “I don’t kill for money.”

  “What makes you think I do?”

  “A little bird told me.”

  She didn’t know what he meant. Her eyes noted her smartphone in his hand and she suddenly realized he might’ve gotten into it. He seemed to know something, but she didn’t have to admit anything. Yet. “Did you ever know why you were ordered to kill someone? You’re a Marine. You just follow orders.”

  He approached her. “I want to know who ordered the hit.”

  “I’m sure you do. I neither know nor care who wants you dead. You’re just a job, buddy. Don’t take it personally.”

  “Killing is always personal, or are you that coldblooded?”

  “You know what I mean. Don’t pretend you don’t.”

  He sighed and said, “Let’s try something simpler. Why did you drop a pot on my head earlier?”

  Her eyebrows shot up. No harm in telling him that. “Hitting the ground would make a different sound from hitting your head.”

  “Rather than stick your head out and get shot,” he surmised. When she didn’t say anything, he asked, “I don’t suppose you know how to cook with pots, too, or would that be too much to ask?”

  “Why, you want me to make you dinner or something? Pig. Cook your own damn food. I’m nobody’s servant.”

  He smiled. “Oh, I don’t know about that. You sound like you get paid to serve somebody, and you’ve served me pretty well so far.”

  “How’s that?”

  He lifted her smartphone. “I used your thumb print to unlock this. Learned all sorts of things.”

  Jordan clenched her jaw. Seeing his amusement, she felt heat in her cheeks and chest, where his eyes strayed before returning to hers. Not a reaction could be hidden from him if she didn’t try harder. Knowing what was on the phone and what he might’ve learned, she sensed that if she played dumb when he revealed knowledge, that would make her seem weak.

  “Like what?” she asked.

  “You’re not French.”

  That startled her, which he saw, judging by the smirk. She had to do a better job of hiding things. “Why would I be French? And what makes you think I’m not?”

  “You flew in on Air France from Paris but you don’t have a French accent. Sound American, actually.”

  “Congratulations, Sherlock.”

  Smirking, he asked, “How was the sushi?” She blinked in confusion. “The Hilton is in their delivery range, isn’t it?”

  Realization dawned and she felt flustered that his approach was forcing her to reveal reactions if not confirmation of information he already knew or guessed. If he learned enough about how she responded to things, he’d be able to read her when she didn’t want that. The cleverness of the nudity tactic, and his interrogation, impressed and irritated her. A glare crept into her eyes.

  “So you’ve been in my bank accounts,” she surmised, mentally listing what he might’ve seen.

  “A half million is all I’m worth dead?” Riley asked.

  “What makes you think that was for you? You’re not worth half that from what I see.”

  “And you’re worth every penny from what I see.”

  He slowly looked over her body again, but she knew he was doing it to cause a reaction. Mostly. She felt certain that his eyes noted her rising nipples. Fighting her arousal only worsened it; her eyes darted to the noticeably bigger bulge in his jeans. Fortunately, his focus lay elsewhere and he didn’t notice.

  Maybe I can turn the tables, she wondered. Seeing me getting turned on, however embarrassing that might be, might get his guard down, make him easier to manipulate. Then again, maybe he’ll be unable to restrain himself anymore and he’ll fuck my Goddamn brains out.

  She hadn’t meant to think the vulgar language. Was unconscious desire behind it? She wasn’t sure what she wanted. We
ll, that was only sort of true. Rape certainly wasn’t a desire, but she reluctantly admitted wanting to fool around with him. Not being trussed like a pig would’ve normally been a preference, but something about him suggested he wouldn’t without her consent, so despite having not entered into the situation willingly, part of her didn’t find it entirely objectionable. Pride and normal self-preservation instincts to be free warred with unconscious desire to give consent. A surge of desire swept over her and she decided to play with fire, using the only weapon she had—raw sexuality.

  She flexed her muscles as if testing the bonds once more, pulling in her tummy and arching her back in subtle ways, as if not doing it on purpose. Riley’s eyes bulged and he clenched both fists, naked desire on his face until he cleared the look with visible effort. She suppressed a smile.

  The Marine sat on the bed, leaning over so that one hand went straight for a breast. Fear shot through her, that she’d misjudged him. She tensed in anticipation only to have his hand go right past and onto the bed, causing both relief and frustration. His warm, hairy forearm grazed her flesh, sending sensation up to her nipple. Maybe he was better at this torture thing than she’d imagined. Jordan tried to ignore the minty scent of cologne on him and the riveting blue eyes that sparkled with mischief, danger, and lust.

  Riley whispered, “The half mil was a down payment, wasn’t it?”

  This time she hid the truth better. “What if it was?”

  “What happens now that you failed?”

  “I wouldn’t get the other half, assuming it was for you.”

  “Do you have to return the down payment, or does that mean someone comes after you next?”

  “Why? Would you protect me?”

  He grinned. “I wouldn’t want another man to have you instead.”

  “And are you going to have me?” Knowing the risk, she pressed her breast into his forearm, adopting her best “come hither” look. As faked as the motion was, where the mind goes, the body will follow, and her pussy spasmed in truth of the trite saying, the dew of arousal gathering on her bared folds. She could smell it, and on seeing Riley breathe in deeply through his nose, she knew he did, too. Her lips parted of their own volition. There was no pretending anymore. The feeling of having been caught being horny ratcheted up her physical reactions even as embarrassment colored her cheeks.

 

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